CHAPTER SEVEN: AMARILLO BY MORNING

Hermione was flung through the air with absolutely no control over her limbs or her emotions. She could not think of a time when she had had more distaste for the old man. He had just single- handedly taken everything she loved from her and sent her to the God-forsaken middle of nowhere, expecting her to live.

"Fat Chance" Hermione said aloud in the darkness of the early Amarillo morning. She got to her feet, and with heavy eyes, took in her surroundings. She was in the middle of a street, facing a small, blue-with-white-shingles house that looked ready to crumble to the ground the moment a sudden gust of wind touched it.

She had been standing, staring at the house for about a minute when out of it a short, gray-haired, round woman came flying through the door, followed by a tall, balding man. The woman unceremoniously placed a firm grip on Hermione's wrist, and all but pulled her into the shabby house.

Once inside, the woman dragged Hermione into a small kitchen and sat her in a chair, and began bustling around, all the while talking to Hermione about how she liked her tea. "How do you like your tea, Dearie?" the woman turned to Hermione, smiling.

Hermione was baffled. This woman had just been really brisk with her, and now was standing there, smiling like a Looney toon.

"Umm, strong. Really strong." Hermione replied, trying to keep the bewilderment out of her voice.

"Oh, Dearie, you're confused. What's wrong?" the man said gently.

Damn, these two are good. Hermione thought to herself.

"I'm nervous. And I miss my family already."

"Family? What family, Dearie? Dumbledore told us of no family…" the man said.

"I have a husband. We have two kids, a boy and a girl"

"Really now? You look so young to have a husband and kids."

"We married when we were thirteen. I had Charlie at eighteen and Cecilia two months ago."

"Your husband's name is?"

"Harry."

"Harry Potter? Are you serious?" The woman looked astounded, and all at once jumped up and hugged Hermione, trembling with excitement. Hermione wondered if she had slipped up and told them her last name was Potter. She concluded that she had not. So how would the woman know?

"You and your husband are heroes! You have saved the world of wizards from a terrible fate! And you're here to live with us! Oh, I'm tickled. Just tickled pink."

"Mary, Dear, let the poor girl breathe. She's turning blue." The man pulled Mary off Hermione and out of the kitchen. She got a good look at her face before collapsing in on herself to nurse her crushed ribs. The woman's face was red and puffy.

The man came back into the room. "Sorry, Dear, she, uhh, was obviously kinda excited."

Hermione could do nothing but shake her head and smile meekly. How could Dumbledore not mention the little fact that she was indeed Harry's wife?

"Hi, Hermione, my name's Ken" the man stuck out his calloused hand to shake Hermione's. "It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, stay as long as you like. You are welcome into our home. Please feel free to do as you please, so long as it does not infringe on any other residents. We know being pulled up by the roots and flung into a new life must be hellacious for you. We want you to be as comfortable as a hound dog in the chicken coup. We hope you will be as happy as can be expected here. What a pleasure for us."

Hermione, who had already decided that the people Dumbledore had stuck her with were a little kooky, decided to just play into Ken's game.

"So, now that we're all familiar, I have a question for you. With all due respect, who am I to portray?"

And Ken and Hermione sat up the rest of the day, Ken filling Hermione in on the girl she had just become.